Scars
by FuchsiasAttic
Summary: Sorry I'm horrible with titles. So in this story, Bruce comes home from a night of drinking and finds an uninvited guest in his room...what will happen from there? You must read and find out! :-D Rating will go up soon! Slash! Disclaimer: I own nothing
1. Chapter 1

Bruce Wayne came home after a night spent drinking. Life as "The Batman" was becoming increasingly difficult to handle, and alcohol was his new favourite distraction. He knew that would come back to bite him one of these nights when he was summoned while drunk. Oh well. It hadn't happened yet, and might not happen anytime soon. He hadn't been needed lately, for whatever reason. Bruce wasn't sure if he was upset or relieved by that.

He wandered over to his personal bar to pour himself another drink before bed. "Just one," he said.

"Now we both now that isn't true, Brucey," a voice said from behind him.

Bruce froze. He knew that voice. He knew who would be standing there when he turned around.

"'Cause we both know what's going to happen," the Joker continued. "'Just one' will turn into just one more, and one more will turn into another one, blah blah blah." He circled slowly around Bruce before leaning up against the bar. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, you cliche."

"What are you talking about?" Bruce muttered. He knew he should be more afraid, but he was surprisingly calm. It was probably because he wasn't entirely sure if the Joker was really there, or if he was a figment of his intoxicated imagination.

"What am I talking about," the Joker mocked. "Y'know, the young, hot playboy with demons turning to alcohol to solve his nonexistent problems, it's boring."

Bruce felt a flash of anger. What did the Joker know about his life? Strike that, actually. Batman had become his life, and the Joker seemed to know quite a bit about that.

"I have plenty of problems," was all Bruce said.

"Oh yes, like Mommy and Daddy? I heard all about that, my poor baby." The Joker leaned in closer. "Would you like to compare sad childhood stories?"

"I'll take a rain check," Bruce said, rubbing his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Well I was hoping you could lend me a few bucks, Mr. Wayne," the Joker said gravely. "I need an abortion, and the baby's yours." He held his composure for about five seconds, and then fell apart, snickering. "I bet that's a sentence you're used to hearing, huh?" He managed to ask between loud, raucous laughs.

"Would you keep your voice down?" Bruce hissed.

"What? Afraid your little butler will disapprove of your guest? Didn't know you cared so much about the opinions of lowly working folks," the Joker said.

"I don't want you deciding to kill him if he comes in here."

"Who says I haven't already?" The Joker dropped his voice. It was almost seductive, the way he has suddenly become so serious, and frightening.

"What did you do to him?" Bruce asked. He suddenly realized how bad this situation was. Why was the Joker in his house? Did he know about who he was? He cursed the drinks he'd taken in earlier; now he really needed to have his wits about him. He didn't have any armor on to protect himself, the way he usually did when he had to deal with the Joker.

"Nothing, nothing, don't worry." He picked up the bottle of gin that Bruce had just been about to pour. "I could never see the appeal with this stuff," he took off the cover and sniffed. "Ugh! Yeah that's terrible. Like I said, Batsy, boring boring."

Bruce almost threw up. "What did you call me?"

"You heard me." The Joker smoothed his hair back with one hand while the other reached for Bruce's. He took hold of his fingers and rubbed his thumb across them. "Don't worry, I'm not going to go blabbing. I feel a little embarrassed, actually. I go around, declaring that Batman is my arch nemesis, and who does he turn out to be? Like I said, some little pretty boy with a drinking problem."

Bruce pulled his hand out of the Joker's grip. He was still in shock, and the only thing he could manage to say was "I don't have a drinking problem."

"Haha," The Joker looked hurt. "Listen, just 'cause you go to a swanky upscale establishment for your liquor doesn't make you any less of an alcoholic than someone who chugs it down in a dive on the side of the highway, alright? But as I was saying, you're not really worthy of me."

"Well then, what do you want?"

"'What do you want, what do you want,' can't you think of anything better to ask me?" The Joker mumbled.

"Like what?"

"I don't know, how about, what's my favourite colour, what's my idea of a perfect date, how do I like to be kissed?" He studied Bruce and felt a flutter of satisfaction when his nemesis blushed. "But fine, if you are going to be all pouty about it, I just wanted to pay you a visit."

"I don't think it's that simple," Bruce said.

The Joker rolled his eyes. "There's no pleasing you, is there? Can't I just pop by to say hello?"

Bruce noticed the Joker was getting anxious. He started to fiddle with his hands, and his tongue darted out of his mouth to tap on the side of his lip in an almost OCD like way. There were so many elements to the Joker's psychosis; Bruce added that to the growing list he had tucked away in the back of his mind. He didn't know which was more alarming; the Joker calm, or the Joker on edge.

"Why would you do that?"

"Why wouldn't I? Can't a friend just come by to see another friend?" He took a step or two closer to Bruce, who took three steps backward.

"You're not my friend," Bruce said, trying to sound firm.

The Joker stuck out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. "That's not very nice, Brucey."

Bruce held out his arm in front of him. "See this scar here? That's from you."

"Mhmm," The Joker said, staring down at the old wound almost greedily.

"Friends usually don't give other friends scars, for one thing" Bruce said. Trying to reason with the Joker was obviously going to fail, but it was fun trying, strangely enough.

"Come on, that was business. That was work, you know. It wasn't anything _personal_." He kept moving toward Bruce, unbuttoning the bottom part of his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Bruce asked. He kept backing away, and almost knocked a chair over. He grabbed hold of it to steady himself.

"Geez, don't be so nervous, Batsy. I'm just showing you a lovely little memento you left with me." He lifted up his shirt to reveal a deep purple, jagged scar. That was the first thing Bruce noticed. The next was how narrow the Joker's waist was. He knew he was small, but wasn't really aware before how thin he truly was. It was odd seeing a part of the Joker that wasn't painted. He knew that somewhere underneath those clothes was someone quite human. He was, psychologically, a monster, but in every other sense he was just as much a person as Bruce was. He couldn't help but wonder, and it made him shudder, about what he looked like everywhere else.

The Joker giggled. "It's rude to stare, you know." He kept his shirt lifted, raising it a little higher, even. He ran one finger casually across the scar, smiling at the way Bruce's eyes followed it. "But come on, I must have left more scars on you than that. I know you've given me more than this." His grin widened slightly, the permanent trail twitching upward. "C'mon, Bats, I'll show you mine if you show me yours."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thank you so much for the reviews! This is the first fanfiction I have written in a long time, so please humour me as I work on this! I appreciate your reviews and input a lot, so thank you!! I hope you like the recent addition!**_

**Disclaimer: Again, I own nothing, except my little imagination. **

**Also , I changed the title, because I found another fanfiction called "Scar Stories" that was already around, so I didn't want to steal their title or anything. **

"I think you should leave," Bruce said through clenched teeth. He grabbed hold of the Joker's coat lapel, and tried to drag him to the door. The Joker was caught off guard and fell forward against Bruce's chest, latching onto his shoulder.

"Woo!" The Joker smiled. "You startled me. Congratulations." He held on to Bruce desperately, like a swooning lady in the arms of a gallant knight. He kept his gaze fixed on Bruce's face, delighting in the way his breath hitched when he ran a finger along Bruce's jawline. His fingertips slid distractedly down Bruce's neck and back on his shoulder, massaging it.

Bruce allowed it for a moment, feeling violated in more ways than one, but not fighting against it.

"You're so tense," the Joker murmured.

Bruce was brought back into reality by the Joker's voice, and he wrestled out of his grasp.

"Look," Bruce said, "I have no idea why you are here, but you need to leave. Now." He walked over to where he thought he'd left his wallet. "I can pay you for your silence, about well, you know..."

The Joker laughed. "I _told_ you, I'm not going to tell anyone your deep dark secret. What use would I have with your money?"

Bruce shook his head in frustration. He could never understand a man like the Joker. What Alfred had said to him before, that some men were not looking for anything logical, that almost made sense, in the big picture. The Joker didn't kill people or blow up buildings for any profit, he did it because he enjoyed it. If Bruce thought hard enough, he could almost wrap his head around that twisted mind set. But for the Joker to be here, in his bedroom, in the middle of the night, for absolutely no reason, it left him feeling completely baffled.

"So," the Joker continued. "Do you want to see the rest of the scars you gave me, or not?"

"No thanks. Something tells me we'd be here all night, and I'm really tired." He sat down on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands.

"Come on," the Joker groaned. "Can't you just humour me? The only people I have to talk to all day are, well, let's just say it, idiots."  
"You saying I'm not an idiot?" Bruce laughed dryly. "Coming from you, that's almost a compliment."

"See? I'm full of surprises." He edged a little closer. "Please let me stay, Brucey."

"Stay where you are," Bruce said, extending his arm out in front of him. He reached for his phone on the nighstand, stretching out on the bed. "I'm calling the police. You're going to go to jail."

The Joker skipped over to the phone, humming nonsense as he threw it to the floor, and crushed it under his boot.

Bruce stared at the shattered remains of plastic, grinding his teeth angrily. "God damn it!" He shouted. "You -"

"Shh," the Joker cooed, leaping on top of Bruce and holding his wrists down. "You may not want to finish that sentence, sticks and stones and all that. You upset over your little phone? Bet that was expensive, hmm?"

Bruce didn't answer. He tried to shove the Joker off him, but he was exhausted. He could barely lift his head. "Get off me."

"Oh sure, no problem," the Joker said. "While I'm at it why don't I walk myself down to the police station and turn myself in?"

"That would be great," Bruce groaned. The Joker shifted his weight back and forth, almost anxiously, over Bruce's hips.

"That's one thing I could never understand about horror movies, when the half naked lady is running away, the bad guy always yells 'Get back here.' As if the bimbo is gonna turn around, like 'Sorry about that. Come on, big boy, bury that axe in my face.'" He kept moving on top of him, without seeming to realize it. Bruce couldn't focus on whatever it was the Joker was rambling on about, and now his fatigue and hazy drunkenness had little to do with it. The pressure and movement of the Joker on top of his groin was distracting, to say the very least. He closed his eyes and let out an involuntary moan as a wave of pleasure rolled up his body and shook him.

The Joker stopped moving. "What was that, Brucey?"

"Nothing," Bruce said, biting his lip. "Would you get off me?" He sat up and weakly attempted to get the Joker away from him, but he was slammed back onto the bed. The Joker's face was dangerously close to Bruce's. He dug his elbows into Bruce's biceps to hold him down. He studied his panicked face, grinning wickedly. Slowly he began to grind his hips, so slowly that it was barely noticeable. Both of them could feel Bruce's body responding, though their reactions to the situation was quite different. Bruce was dead pale, and unable to move. The Joker, however, was perfectly able to move, and continued to do so. He pressed himself down harder onto Bruce as he rocked agonizingly slow back and forth.

"You like that?" The Joker whispered.

"N-no," Bruce shook his head fiercely, as his own hips began to move up in rhythm with the Joker, who raised his hips up and away from the batman. Bruce whined at the sudden loss of pressure.

"Ah," the Joker sighed. "That's just what I thought."

"You're a freak," Bruce said. He wasn't sure at the moment who he was angrier with, the Joker or himself. Rage, mixed in with arousal, flooded through him, and he flipped the Joker on his back, landing on top of him.

"Mm, you like to be on top, I see," the Joker said. "Just be prepared to take turns."

Bruce gave him a shove down onto the bed before crawling off him.

"Ah, please Batsy, don't leave me like this," the Joker groaned mockingly, writhing on the sheets with his legs spread. Bruce noticed, in fact couldn't help but notice, the bulge growing behind the zipper of the Joker's pants.

"Stay right there," Bruce ordered, pointing at him, trying to seem intimidating.

"First you want me to leave, now you want me to stay. And people say I play mind games."

Bruce looked around for something to tie the Joker up with. He needed to get to another phone, but once the Joker figured out what he was doing he would probably take off or attack him.

He found a tie lying on the floor by his bureau, and brought it over to the bed. What he saw when he got there shocked him. The Joker had not fled, but was lying there still, and his hands were kneading desperately into his groin, thrusting his hips against them.

Bruce's jaw hung open as he tried to figure out if he had really gone crazy and was hallucinating. But no. The Joker, his arch enemy, Gotham's nightmare, was jacking off....in his bed.

"What the hell are you doing?" Bruce shouted. The Joker was too busy to respond. "Answer me!" He managed to find his way to the bed, willing his legs to work. This was the ultimate violation. How could he fall asleep in his bed now, after witnessing this? "Hey!" He grabbed the Joker's frantic wrists and yanked them up above his head.

"Spoil sport," the Joker mumbled. He looked up as Bruce tied his hands to the metal headboard. "Ooh, or not," he purred, licking his lips.

"You're disgusting," Bruce said, roughly securing the knots.

"You like to name call, don't you, darling? It's okay, I don't mind." He moaned deeply when Bruce hit him across the face. "Mmm, again," the Joker rolled his head to the side, thrusting his hips against Bruce's.

"You need help," Bruce growled, climbing off the madman.

"I do, I do," the Joker whined. "Help me, Batsy." He giggled, "Help me, cure me with your magic wand." He burst out laughing.

"Shut up!" Bruce hissed. "Shut your mouth!" He was suddenly in a fury, and landed on top of the Joker, slamming his fists against him. He could hear the Joker cackling, and knew that the psycho was enjoying this, but then again, so was Bruce. His adrenaline was pumping through his body, and he only stopped hitting him when he heard the Joker crying out, "Ah, yes, harder, harder," in between mad laughter.

Bruce sat back up, staring at the crazy man beneath him. The Joker was momentarily lost in some kind of demented euphoria, moaning and biting his lip. He opened his eyes, large and sleepy, and looked up at Bruce. "Thank you, Bats. That was lovely. Keep it coming."


	3. Chapter 3

_Hi everybody! I just wanted to thank you all again for the reviews, I feel so giddy whenever I read them! :-) I hope you like this next bit!!!!! _

Bruce felt sick. He had given the Joker exactly what he wanted, and he himself had loved it. He knew, though he wouldn't let himself admit it, that he was just as involved in this sado-masochistic relationship as the Joker was. Bruce didn't have to hit him as hard, or as often, as he did. He knew that the Joker's reaction would never change. There would never be a time when Bruce would draw his fist back, ready to knock it into the clown's jaw, and hear desperate pleas from the Joker, begging him to stop. Quite the contrary. Bruce could never hit him enough, and with each failure, Bruce knew he would grow angrier and angrier until he snapped. That was it, it would never end until he had completely lost it. Even if Bruce killed the Joker, he was pretty sure that the bastard's ghost would follow him around, jumping out of closets and shouting "boo!" at the top of his lungs. He would probably wear a god damn sheet over his head, too.

Bruce was headed towards the door, ignoring the Joker's cries of protest. For a while, anyway.

"Where are you going?" The Joker called.

"Take a wild guess."

The Joker attempted to clap his hands. "Yay! I love guessing games."

"I bet you do," Bruce said, still walking away.

"You won't be able to use the phone in there, either, Brucey," the Joker said.

Bruce turned around, "What?"

"You heard me. I took the liberty of, uh, disconnecting that phone earlier this evening."

"Of course you did," Bruce groaned to himself, rubbing his temples. "Ok, here's what's going to happen. You are going to stay here while I go find a payphone."

"You really expect me to just lie here, waiting for the cops to come get me?"

"Yes I do," Bruce said, grabbing his coat.

The Joker snickered. "Wow, Bats, you really are as stupid as they say. I always stick up for you when they say that, but wow. I'm starting to agree with them."

"I tied those knots tight, okay? You're not going anywhere."

"Really," the Joker said, raising an eyebrow. "You sure you tied them tight enough?"

Bruce ignored him, checking his pocket for his keys. He was just ready to leave, but he started to doubt himself. Did he really tie the Joker up tight enough? He knew he had, but he kept picturing coming home and finding the bed empty, with the necktie folded neatly on the pillow, and a note saying "You should have checked again, Batsy," lying next to it.

"God damn it," he grumbled. He walked back to the Joker, wanting to punch in the self satisfied grin that was smeared across his face. Standing as far away from the bed as possible, he gave the makeshift rope a tug. The knot really wasn't all that tight. "Don't move," Bruce ordered.

"Sure, whatever you say, sweetheart."

Bruce untied the knot quickly, and then pulled it back together, or meant to. He felt something grasp his wrists, and the Joker's leg caught hold of his waist. He was flipped and a second later was on his back, with the Joker on top of him.

Bruce cried out, his voice not much more than a squeak. That was almost as embarrassing as being tricked by the Joker, though not quite.

"Shh," the Joker hushed. "I sure got you, didn't I? It's ok, you don't have to be perfect all the time, Batsy, especially not now. It's only me." He leaned closer toward Bruce, brushing his lips along his neck up towards his jaw.

"Get the hell off of me." Bruce's eyes were closed, feeling the clown's mouth exploring his skin with both repulsion and excitement. The Joker's breath was warm against him, but sent cold shivers through his body. He didn't want this, he didn't...

The Joker moaned lightly in Bruce's ears. As his teeth bit gently on the lobe, Bruce heard a moan escape his own lips. He lightly curled his fingers over the Joker's hands, which were still holding him down. It was as if he was watching himself, seeing his body do things that he didn't necessarily want it to do, and he had no control over it. In his head he was screaming, demanding his reflexes to kick in and knock his enemy off of him, but his body simply would not cooperate.

The Joker's mouth was traveling, biting and sucking Bruce's neck and softly grinding his hips against him. His hands were rubbing along Bruce's arms.

"I want to touch you," the Joker said. His voice was dark, but Bruce could tell from the way his lips moved against his throat that he was smiling. "If I let go, will you promise to be a good boy?"

"Probably not," Bruce said. He was surprised to hear himself laugh a little, since there really wasn't much about his predicament that was funny.

"Yeah, probably not," the Joker echoed. He somehow managed to get the tie off his own wrists, and wrap it around Bruce's, all the while holding him down. It worked in his favour that Bruce was still completely stunned from being flipped over and pounced on so suddenly.

_You've got to get out of here_, Bruce thought. His mind was racing. The problem was, he didn't really want to get away. It might have been some kind of morbid curiosity, but he wanted the Joker to touch him. He wanted to give himself up to the madman's whims. He knew the dangers that were there, but he couldn't help wanting to see how far he would take it. He watched passively as the Joker tied him to the bed.

"My my," the Joker giggled. "How the tables have turned."

_I was just about to say that,_ Bruce thought.

With Bruce's hands now secured to the bed, the Joker let his wander. He took his gloves off and threw them over his shoulder, and ran his bare fingers through Bruce's hair as he continued to assault his neck with his frantic mouth. He shifted so he was laying flat on top of him, resting between Bruce's legs.

"Imagine if anyone were to see the big bad Batman like this!" The Joker said with delight. Bruce said nothing in response. He couldn't speak. He was overwhelmed by the sensation of the Joker rhythmically pressing against him, and his hands as they clawed up and down his body. The Joker slipped a hand under Bruce's shirt, running his fingers along his skin in a way that was almost shy. He stopped kissing his neck, which got a whine from the Batman. Bruce was growing more and more delirious, wondering now why he had ever had thought of resisting. He was reminded when he saw the Joker reach into his pocket and draw out a knife.

_Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed it! There is more coming, I'm sorry for all the cliffhangers...._


	4. Chapter 4

_**Hi again!!! Thank you so much for the reviews, everybody! This chapter gave me a bit of a hard time, so I hope you like it. I'm trying to keep Bruce in character, because for some reason I'm having a more difficult time with him.**_

The Joker's eyes gleamed when he saw the panic spread across Bruce's face. He flipped the jack knife open, with the point of the blade pressed against his finger. He gave the edge of the blade a grotesque little kiss and then ran it lightly across his lip.

"Joker, whatever you're thinking of doing with that knife-" Bruce couldn't raise his voice any louder than a whisper.

The Joker slowly put the tip of the blade across Bruce's lips to silence him. "What do you think I'm gonna use it for, Brucey? Hmm? Come on, speak up," he said, leaving the knife over his lips.

Bruce had gone completely cold. He tried to remind himself of who he was; he was the protector of Gotham. Some of the city's most dangerous criminals were terrified of him. But the thought then came into his mind: why, if he was so strong, was he now in this situation?

"You haven't answered me, darling," the Joker growled, gripping him by the back of the neck.

"I - I don't know," Bruce mumbled. He couldn't move his lips. He was afraid to move at all.

"What was that?" The Joker leaned forward as if he couldn't hear him.

"I don't know," Bruce said again.

"You don't know," the Joker giggled. "No, of course you wouldn't. You're not a mind reader, are you Batman?" His eyes were shining wickedly as he ran the knife down to Bruce's throat, gliding the tip along his skin as if he were writing initials. J + B. J gave a little grin that made B shiver.

"Don't worry too much, my lovely," the Joker said, still giggling. "Not too much." He grabbed Bruce by the hair and pulled his had back, leaving his throat vulnerable. The knife was still quivering over his skin.

"Joker-" Bruce started in a voice that was part angry, part terrified.

The Joker brought his lips crashing down upon his neck again, biting and kissing violently. He forgot about the knife in his grip, and the edge nicked Bruce lightly.

Bruce cried out. It wasn't a bad cut; he'd given himself plenty just like it when shaving, and had much worse during his nights as the masked vigilante, but he felt as though the tiny scrape would kill him.

"Don't be such a baby," the Joker said, with his mouth still pressed against him. "You're hardly bleeding, anyway." He noticed the scratch on Bruce's neck and the blood dotting along it. Bruce gasped; the Joker's tongue was running over it, sucking gently.

Bruce wanted to scream at him, tell him to stop. He wanted to tell him he was a freak. The words were building in his throat, but came out as nothing but incoherent mumbling.

"Something tells me you're not enjoying this!" The Joker said in fake shock. "A bit too exotic for your taste, perhaps? I guess you do strike me as the more, uh, what's the word, conventional type." He lightly stroked the side of Bruce's face. "Would you like me to kiss you?"

Bruce tried to laugh at him. "What do you think?"

"See that's the thing, Batsy," the Joker said, "I think you do."

Bruce could feel tears of rage building in him. "Well that's just....you're fucking _wrong_, you crazy piece of shit! Untie me, right now, god damn it, or -" He was silenced by the Joker's lips as they pressed against his. He moaned softly, hoping it sounded like a moan of disgust. It wasn't. The Joker's lips were soft and dry, awkwardly ravaging Bruce's mouth. He had, for the time being, let go of the knife, and both of his hands were gripped into Batman's hair, pulling him in closer. Bruce tensed against him, fighting weakly as the Joker's hands slid down, wrapping around his waist.

The Joker reluctantly broke the kiss, looking down at Bruce with eyes that were dark and smouldering. "Shut up, Batman."

Bruce was still breathing heavily, and tried to pretend it was anger , not his body's response to what the Joker was doing to him. "Alright, Joker. You've had your fun. Now untie me."

The Joker scrunched up his face as though deep in thought. "No," he said finally.

"I'm going to yell for Alfred to call the police if you don't do as I say. Get off me."

"And what would they see if they came in here, hmm? Poor little Bruce Wayne, being violated by a , what did you call me? A freak?" He lay down on his side, leaning his head against his fist. "See, sweetums, I don't think you're in any position to be giving orders."

Bruce tried desperately to rethink his options. The Joker was right, he had no reason to expect the Joker to listen to his demands.

"Okay," Bruce said, attempting to seem calm. "Okay, what is it you want from me?"

The Joker giggled, "Why, I want you to scream, Batsy."

Bruce shuddered. "It's not going to happen," he said defiantly. _Oh, fuck,_ he thought, _why did you give him a challenge, you idiot?_

"Oh, won't I?" the Joker said, raising his eyebrows.

"All I meant was," Bruce's mind scrambled desperately, "all I meant was, I can't give you much in return, all tied up like this."

The Joker shrugged, "I don't need much." He smiled and tossed hair out of his eyes. "I'm more of a giver, anyway."

Bruce couldn't help but laugh a little, "Yeah right." He glanced over at the Joker who, thankfully, was still smiling. Bruce meant to look away, but something about the Joker's eyes kept him looking. He didn't want to admit it, but they were beautiful. He tried to find any emotion that might have been lurking behind them. There was something odd there, he looked almost hurt, probably from all the years of whatever hell he had gone through. Bruce felt, all of a sudden, an overwhelming sense of pity for him. What must his life have been like for him to end up like this?

"Take a picture, Batsy, it'll last longer," the Joker said. He was smiling, but now looked a little uncomfortable.

"The thing is," Bruce continued, "I don't think you like having me tied up like this."

"I don't?" The Joker's mouth fell open, "Wow that's funny, because I really think I do!" He casually picked up the knife again, and traced a line down Bruce's torso.

Bruce's eyes followed it, cringing as the Joker slid the blade down over his groin and back up, running along his waistline. He took a deep breath. "You don't. You like a fight, don't you?"

"As much as the next guy, sure," the Joker said. He was focused on the knife against Bruce's skin as he used it to push his shirt up.

"Well," Bruce said, "you can't fight like this." He closed his eyes, trying to collect his thoughts. He couldn't think. The knife felt surprisingly good as it gently ran across his skin. "I mean, _I _can't fight like this."

"That's pretty much the idea, Batsy," the Joker said, rolling his eyes. With a quick, careless flick of his wrist, he cut the button off Bruce's pants.

"Right," Bruce's voice shook. The Joker was not going to stop. There was a look on his face, of raw lust, that was terrifying and primal. "But," Bruce kept on, hoping he could say something to change his mind, "where is the fun in that?"

The Joker didn't seem to be listening. He held on to the top of Bruce's pants with his thumb and forefinger, holding the rest of his fingers up daintily, and pushed the zipper down with the knife.

"Stop," Bruce said, his breath coming out in heavy gasps. He felt the tip of the blade brush against a _very_ sensitive area as it moved down, exposing his boxers.

The Joker looked up at him with his forehead wrinkled in disapproval. "Plaid? You wear _plaid _underwear?" He laughed, in a way that was almost bitter. "Batman wears plaid underwear..."

"What were you expecting?" Bruce asked irritably. This was what the Joker cared about? He hadn't even been listening to him! Bruce was in a quiet panic, refusing to admit to himself how helpless he really was.

"I don't know," the Joker mumbled. "Teehee, maybe a chastity belt!" He laughed at his little private joke for a minute, then fell back against Bruce with a loud sigh. "Maybe I'll consider your request and untie you later. Maybe_._ I'm just so, I don't know, confused by you, y'know?"

_He_ was confused? "Why's that?" Bruce asked drily.

"Well," the Joker said, "I know how difficult choices are, how they can make you crazy." Yes, he did know something about that. "So, by having you here, tied up like this, I'm taking that burden away from you. Like a little mini vacation. Isn't that nice of me?"

_Fuck_, _I have to get out of here._ Bruce's head was pounding. He tried to appear calm. He couldn't let the Joker see he was afraid. He couldn't let him win.

"What are you going to do?" He asked. He was horrified to hear his voice was shaking.

The Joker wrapped an arm around Bruce's waist, snuggling up against him. "Nothing you don't want me to to."

He raised his eyes to look at Bruce, his mouth curling up on one side into an almost seductive sneer. Slowly he slide his hand down Bruce's torso, letting his fingertips linger above the waistband of his boxers.

_Oh God,_ Bruce thought. A mix of horror and excitement flooded through him. He closed his eyes in suspense.

The Joker noticed, and smiled even more. He ran a finger underneath the waistband, feeling the hard muscles twitch beneath it. To his absolute delight he saw his darling enemy growing, as if reaching up towards the Joker's touch. Bruce's hips moved about impatiently. He was, as the Joker had said, almost relieved that he was tied down and not obligated to fight back. That thought, as it flashed through his mind, terrified him.

The Joker kept holding back, trying to draw out Bruce's torment. But his own impatience was running thin. His hand, which had only been toying with the fabric that kept Bruce's growing need from his sight, suddenly shot under and took hold of him.

"Agh!" Bruce gasped and thrust his hips up into the Joker's grasp. He curled his hands into fists around the metal bars of his head board as his whole body tensed.

"Geez, Batsy, calm down," the Joker whispered. He could feel his own heart racing. He suddenly felt very shy holding Bruce in his hand. Bruce was throbbing for him, almost needy. It was now a little intimidating.

To hide the insecurity he knew was showing on his face, the Joker resumed biting and softly kissing Bruce's neck, starting to slide his hand up and down.

Bruce was moaning, unable to think. "Joker-" his voice was low and desperate, "stop it."

That little plea made the Joker smile, and he confidently continued violating the man beneath him.


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you again so much for the comments and support, everybody!!!!! I love getting your feedback! I hope you like this next part!

The Joker moved himself so that again he was lying flat on top of Batman, leaving his hand where it was, stroking him slowly to get him right where he wanted. The weight pressing down on him now made Bruce cry out softly, forgetting any sense of pride he had tried to maintain. Bruce arched his back, knocking the Joker's chin backward.

"Ow," the Joker said lustfully. He let go of Bruce's pulsing erection, getting a whine from the man beneath him. "Shh, shh , it's ok Batsy, don't worry." He reached for the knife again.

"God damn it, put that down," Bruce growled. Against his own will he was thrusting his hips up against the Joker's, who was meeting his thrusts with equal fervor. Bruce lost himself to the electric feeling that was rushing between them.

The Joker brought the knife up to Bruce's chest, closing his eyes and moaning deeply, "Ah, God, Bats..." His head dropped sleepily for an instant, then he remembered what he had grabbed the knife for, and slid it under Bruce's shirt.

Bruce's eyes were huge, watching the blade so close to his heart, "Joker what are you doing?"  
"Don't worry so much darling." The Joker's voice was broken by gasps and low, guttural, animalistic moans. He pulled the knife down slowly, popping the button off his shirt. The air hit Bruce's chest, offering a brief cool against his sweaty skin. Slowly he became more and more exposed. When the shirt, the very expensive shirt, was fully destroyed, the Joker dropped the knife and attacked the revealed body with his mouth. Bruce was crying out against it in his mind. Logic, everything, was telling him he was wrong, that he should do something. But the other half of him knew there was nothing he could do, so why not try to enjoy it?

"Oh, my God!" Bruce whispered harshly. The Joker grabbed hold of Bruce's hips, digging his fingers into his skin so hard it hurt, but Bruce didn't care. Quite the opposite; he found he enjoyed it. The Joker yanked Bruce's hips upward, their erections grinding together harder than before. Bruce could feel he was close to the edge. He was writhing, crying out and hating himself for it. "Please," he begged, not knowing what he was begging for. "Please."  
The Joker's mouth breathed teasingly on Bruce's nipple. His tongue, so used to darting out that Bruce wasn't clear if he did it on purpose, found it's way down and circled around his nipple, then rolled it around in his teeth. Bruce cried out even louder; he was close, and the Joker knew it.

Which was why he stopped.

"What are you, why-" Bruce's voice became a squeal, pushing his hips up, trying to get friction again.

"I don't want it to be over so soon," the Joker cooed. "It's gonna be ok." He smiled and leaned back, straddling Bruce, taking care not to touch what Bruce so badly wanted to be touched. He unbuttoned his vest and tossed it aside, then started to work on his shirt. Bruce watched, fascinated. The Joker was pale, and thin...but Bruce could see slight muscle definition that he thought, without meaning to, about what it would be like to run his tongue along it. But the scars, that was what he could not stop staring at. There were long jagged purple lines etched into his flesh, some sinking into his skin, others rising slightly above. There were some little ones, maybe self inflicted. The pity Bruce felt for him came flooding back.

"Like what you see?" The Joker said, running his hands across his body. He slid them down, with Bruce's gaze following. He unfastened his belt, then the snap of his pants, and slid the zipper down slowly.

Bruce smiled, "Plaid?"

"I told you, you and I are the same, in more ways than one," the Joker said with a childlike grin.

Without the Joker's hand working him, Bruce was able to think a bit more clearly. The smile dropped from his face, and he looked around himself as if he had just awoken from a coma. "Wait, no," he said. "No, we need to stop this. Please, you just need to go now, alright?"

The Joker's grin spread, then disappeared for a moment and was replaced by an awkward cringe as he tried to tug off his pants without falling over. "Ahh, Brucey, but we're just about to have fun!" He frowned when he realized he still had shoes and socks on. "Hmm, well _that's_ unattractive. No wonder you're having such a little hissy fit!" He removed those, even more awkwardly.

"It's not the shoes, you idiot," Bruce said, rolling his eyes.

"You're so verbally abusive tonight, Batsy!" He leaned back, resting his hands on the bed, stretching in a way that looked pretty uncomfortable but that he seemed fine with. "I know it shouldn't, but...but..." he put on a look of mock despair, "it just, turns me on!" He put his finger on Bruce's chest, running along the lines that defined his pectorals. His voice was deep, and a little intimidating. Not because Bruce thought he would hurt him, but because it was having quite an effect on him, which was not what he wanted. He tried to ignore the stirring he felt, and the replay of what the Joker had just done to him, but it would not leave...God, he wanted the Joker to touch him again. Why did he want that? It made no sense!

"You enjoying yourself?" The Joker's hand slid up and was dangerously close to his own groin. Bruce couldn't stop staring at it. _What does he feel like? _Bruce thought. _Oh shit, why did I think that?_

"I'm gonna take your silence as a 'yes.' Hey, bats," he tossed his hair out of his face, "the door is locked, right?"

"Probably not," Bruce said, attempting a shrug.

"Well!" The Joker hopped off the bed. "I had better fix that!"

When the Joker was away from him, Bruce pretended to fidget with the tie around his wrists, feigning a struggle. He had time now, that he was momentarily alone to fully allow the stress of the situation to sink in. Shit, he _really_ wanted a drink, just one to dull his anxiety. He knew he shouldn't; he needed to be aware of his surroundings now. But God, it would really help calm his nerves.

"All locked up, good and tight!" The Joker said merrily, skipping back over to him. He looked down at Bruce and tilted his head. Bruce was shaking. "Aw, you cold, Bruce? Here, let me help you with that!" He jumped back on the bed, kneeling by his feet and running his hands over Bruce's legs.

"Joker," Bruce said sternly, "I've really had enough of this."

"No, not yet you haven't," the Joker gave Bruce a smile that was wonderfully terrifying. His hands were going up along the inside of Bruce's thighs, slowly and deeply, and Bruce could do nothing about it. "Come on, Batty, just give in."

Bruce was lost in the sensation of those hands inching closer and closer to what so desperately wanted to be touched. Christ, he wanted it so bad it hurt. Literally.

"You ever been with a man before?" The Joker whispered slyly.

Bruce's eyes shot open, "What? No!"

"Ok fine, geez...nothing to get so upset over." The Joker slid his body down onto Bruce's, letting his lips hover above for just a moment before kissing him. Bruce's heart beat loud and fast inside him. He was kissing back, he couldn't believe it! He wanted to open his mouth, to invite the Joker in. He wanted to run his tongue along the Joker's scarred lips ,he wanted to feel their breath striking together. He wanted to put his arms around the Joker and pull him closer. He was kissing back desperately, being met with equal desperation. Bruce had to wonder, how long had the Joker wanted this?

"Don't worry, Brucey," the Joker moaned between kisses. "I'll be gentle...ish." He scraped his fingernails down Bruce's stomach, hooked onto the waistband of his boxers, and began to tug them down.

"Wait wait wait!" Bruce gasped. He was shaking violently. "I'm, I"m not ready."

"Like I said, pumpkin face, don't worry. I'll hold your hand." With that he pulled them off, revealing Bruce completely. "Oh!" The Joker's mouth fell open as he beheld him. "My, would ya look at that."

Bruce watched, in awe and terror, as the Joker reacted to his naked foe lying before him. The Joker's face changed, relaxing into a look of undisguised lust.

Bruce couldn't help but feel proud, having the Joker's gaze transfixed on what rose from between his legs. He had gotten the Joker to shut up, for a moment anyway.

The Joker was rocking himself back and forth, and slipped one hand into his boxers. His eyes sank closed as he stroked himself, moaning and grinding his hips slowly.

The image of this painted and scarred, but somehow still beautiful, man pleasuring himself on top of him was...Bruce could think of nothing to compare it to. It was the most bizarrely erotic thing he had ever seen. He wanted, painfully wanted, to touch himself. His hands strained against the knots in vain. He was completely at the Joker's mercy. If the Joker wanted to touch him, and relieve him, he could. However, if he wanted to let him lie there in unfulfilled agony, he could do that too. Bruce pushed his hips up toward him, trying to coax the Joker's hand towards him. The Joker appeared to consider it for a second. Part of him wanted Bruce in this state, but a far greater part of him wanted to grab hold of him and pushed him over the edge. He wanted to watch Batman, Bruce Wayne, whatever, cry out in ecstasy and know that he had sent him there.

He went with plan B.

Bruce let out a yell as the Joker's fingers squeezed around him. He let out his breath in spurts, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he grew familiar with the Joker's touch. Odd how he was so used to touching himself that, pleasurable as it was, he took it for granted. This, just with a different hand exploring him, (the hand of his arch nemesis, nonetheless!) was unbelievable. Women had touched him, of course...but God, it had never been anything like this. And they hadn't even gotten started yet.


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6!!!! yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Joker?" Bruce managed to get out, licking his lips.

"Yes, m'darling?"

"Untie me."

The Joker giggled uncontrollably for a moment, dropping his head forward, but his hands kept working. "Yeah right."

"I'm not going to do anything," Bruce pleaded.

The Joker, almost as a punishment, let go of Bruce. "I'm insulted. You think I'm that stupid?"

Bruce shook his head, now more desperate than before with the Joker's hand gone...yet again. "No, I know you're not stupid. Please, I'm not going to hurt you."

"That doesn't sound like fun," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I'll tell you what, I'll untie you, but only if you beg me for it."

_Shit,_ Bruce was writhing around uncontrollably. His pride was there, and screaming at him, refusing to give in to the Joker's whims, but God, he needed to be untied so he could have his way with the Joker.

"What's it gonna be, hmm?" The Joker lowered his lips onto Bruce's chest, lightly gliding his tongue along his salty, hot skin. He kept his eyes raised, watching Bruce's face contort in misery. This was absolutely delicious. His lips kept moving down, further and further, kissing lightly then rough, biting as he went. Bruce was whining and moaning loudly, not caring anymore if the Joker saw what he was doing to him. The Joker's mouth was so close to....

"God damn it, why did you stop?" Bruce cried out, his voice scratchy.

"Wow, so impatient!" The Joker laughed. "I don't hear you begging, Mr. Batman."

Bruce closed his eyes in frustration. "I'm not going to beg you for anything."

"Oh really?" He parted his lips, allowing his tongue to slip out. He ran just the very tip, barely touching, along Bruce's erection.

Bruce inhaled sharply, shooting his hips up to the Joker, who, in return, pulled away.

"Not so fast!" The Joker said in a sing songy voice. "You ready to beg yet?" His breath ran along the trail his tongue had just made.

Bruce twisted in hopeless pleasure, wanting to keep even an ounce of his pride by keeping quiet. He would never beg anyone for anything, especially not the Joker...and not for this!

"Please," he heard himself saying. _Oh shit._

"Please what?" The Joker teasingly kissed along Bruce's length, his heart (and other parts of his anatomy) thrilling at each gasp from the man pinned beneath him. He held Bruce's hips down against the bed to keep him from accidentally getting more than the Joker was going to give him at the moment. "You want me to untie you?"

Bruce moaned, biting his teeth together stubbornly. His poor confused brain was scrambling to make sense of what was happening. He couldn't. "Yes."

"Yes what? Say the magic word!"

Bruce took a deep breath, "Please."

"Beg me for it."

Bruce's pride was quickly becoming less and less important. All he could focus on was the Joker's mouth, and what he was _not_ doing with it. "Fine!" What do you want me to say?"

The Joker's eyes went up in his head as if he was thinking. "Hmmm..why don't you say, 'Joker, please untie me so I can fuck you.'"

Those were the exact words that had been on the tip of Bruce's tongue, but he couldn't make himself say them.

"Just untie me."

"That's not what I told you to say, Brucey. Come on, you can do better than that!" Inside the Joker was screaming _Just say it! Just fucking say it, now. _But Bruce stayed silent.

"Fine," the Joker said in a pitying voice. "If that's how you want it..." with that he took hold of Bruce's torso and flipped him over onto his stomach. Bruce cried out in pain as his wrists twisted into the shape of an X against the metal bards.

"I was gonna be all nice about this and whatnot, but if _you're_ not going to be nice back, well then why should I bother?"

Bruce's heart was beating so hard and so loud that he honestly feared for a moment that it might burst. He knew what was coming, any second now. He didn't know why he wasn't more horrified.

The Joker lay flat on top of Bruce, cool damp skin on hot. They both could feel how well their bodies fit together this way. Bruce couldn't help but think of what the Joker had said to him weeks before: "You complete me." As disturbing a notion as it was to Bruce, had the Joker been right?

"I mean it, I was planning on being all nice to you. You can have it that way, or I can make it hurt. The choice is yours." He waited a moment; but Bruce said nothing. Not out of pride, but because, now, he was trying to come up with an answer. What did he want? He had no idea anymore.

The Joker took Bruce's silence for a response. He sloppily kissed Bruce's neck, saying "Thanks. This'll be fun." Quivering inside, but trying not to show it, he held onto Bruce's shoulders, and bringing his hips up first, thrust himself deeply into him.

Bruce screamed so loud that it actually frightened the Joker. "Shut up!" He hissed, covering Bruce's mouth with his hand. "You don't want your little manservant running in here, do you?" He was breathing heavily, almost unable to speak. The feeling of Bruce tightened around him, twitching and arching to get away and yet wanting to get closer at the same time, he had never expected it to feel like this.

"Stop!" Bruce whispered. "Please, it hurts!"

The Joker smiled devilishly, bringing himself out and then thrusting back in again, harder than before. Bruce screamed into the pillow; oh God all he had to do was just beg the Joker to stop...just say the words and it wouldn't hurt anymore. But strangely enough, there was something thrilling about the desperate way the Joker held him.

"Fuck!" Bruce cried out; now not just in pain...the Joker had struck some spot in him that he never been aware of. Electric waves shot up him. His moans changed to moans of pleasure and a want for more, even through the pain. The Joker was slamming into him, moaning loudly. It sounded as if it was not even coming from him, it was something deep and primal coming out of him as he penetrated him faster and harder.

"Untie me," Bruce moaned, "Please untie me." The sensation of the Joker on him, in him, was overwhelming, and he needed to give more, not just lie there. He needed his hands over the Joker's body. "I want...I want to touch you, please."

The Joker wanted to give some kind of smart comeback, but nothing would pass his lips. Frantically he reached out and untied the knots with clumsy fingers. He braced himself, knowing that Bruce would probably hit him or try to push him off. But it didn't happen. Bruce wrapped his arms behind him, rubbing against the Joker's skin, grabbing onto his ass and pulling his thrusts deeper into him. The Joker laughed a little through his moans. The Batman had surprised him.

The Joker was thrusting harder and with more fervor, whimpering almost helplessly. His hands were grabbing at Bruce's skin, pulling and scratching. One made it's way to Bruce's previously ignored erection, and continued stroking. "Jesus, Batsy..."

Bruce's whole body was lost in it; it was as if the Joker had made him a new person, someone who didn't care about what others thought or what was "right" and "wrong." All he knew, or cared about, was what the Joker was doing to him, physically and emotionally. He ran his fingers through the Joker's greasy hair, encouraging him to kiss his neck more. The Joker obliged him happily, pressing his teeth down upon it, grabbing onto Bruce's hair and pulling his head back towards him. He nibbled on his ear, whispering nonsense to him, things that were not even English for the most part. Amidst his mumblings came "Bats, ah fuck!" His husky breath matched his thrusts, and his Batman was pressing back, wanting him deeper. He almost wanted it to hurt again. His hands moved down to the Joker's, making him work on him faster.

"Trying to set the pace here, huh?" The Joker managed to get out. He whispered loudly, and shook. "Agh! Damn it!" He released violently into Bruce, who, seconds later, thanks to the sound of the Joker's orgasm and their hands and sweat together against him, came. They rocked against each other, softly, a few more times, before collapsing against him. Their breathing slowed long before their hearts did.

The Joker rolled off him, and Bruce turned so they were facing each other. He took the Joker's face in his hands and kissed him, more gently than he'd ever kissed anyone. He pressed against him so no space was between their bodies.

The Joker started to laugh. Quiet giggling turned into near hysterical laughter.

"What?" Bruce asked irritably.

The Joker coughed out chuckles, and sighed.

"What is it?"

He got a smile frm the Joker, soft yet wicked. "I got you to scream, Batman."

**The End**

I hope you liked it!!! I'm gonna miss writing it...so I guess I'll just have to write more :-D Thank you to everybody so much for your support and your reviews!!


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